


EGS Story Fragments

by Laparoscopic



Category: El Goonish Shive
Genre: F/F, Incomplete, Multi, Out-takes, Spoilers, fragments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 19:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11996211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laparoscopic/pseuds/Laparoscopic
Summary: Deleted scenes, false starts, non-canonical story fragments. Sometimes I write a scene I really like that ends up not working for the story, and so I have to cut it. Here are a few.





	1. Angsty Susan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the original draft of the chapter [_Susan_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8941753/chapters/23038320), from [_Ten Scenes from a Relationship_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8941753/chapters/20468284), Susan's initial reaction to the idea of watching the triad make love was a little more negative. Defensive. Eventually, I decided I didn't want to go that route, but I rather liked some bits of the scene as it played out initially.
> 
> Perhaps obviously, spoilers for _Susan_.

... 

“So… earlier. You said you did and you didn’t want to talk about this. Was there, rather  _is_  there, something you wanted to discuss about what happened?”

“Oh. Yeah. Well…” Sarah tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling, avoiding Susan’s gaze. She wondered if she’d even be considering discussing this with Susan if the hour wasn’t so late, and she was a little bit tired and spacey. Her defenses low. “Something Tedd said. When Grace… we… admitted to getting a little turned on. Grace said that it was mostly a turn-on because it was a  _friend_  watching us, not a stranger. Then Tedd said, jokingly, ‘Well, now I’ve got a great idea for Grace’s  _next_  birthday party.’”

Susan’s eyebrows shot up, and she snorted. “You keep insisting he’s not really a pervert, then you tell me _that_?”

Sarah frowned, annoyed. “That’s not perverse. It’s just… _fantasy_. Perverse would be… _actually_ inviting you to watch us.” Then she shut her mouth, and looked away, face flushing. _Shit. I shouldn’t have said that._

After a few moments of awkward silence, Sarah dared to look back at Susan. To her surprise, Susan wasn’t glowering at her, or rolling her eyes, or looking disgusted, or even amused. She was sitting with her head bowed, the glass of water clenched so tight in one hand that Sarah feared it might break. She couldn’t see Susan’s face past the veil of her hair, but after a moment, she heard Susan sniffle. She reached up with her free hand and rubbed at her eyes, then she put the glass of water down very gently, and stood up, never turning her face towards Sarah.

“Susan…”

“It’s late. I should go,” Susan said, voice devoid of all emotion. She turned her back to Sarah and began to walk out of the room.

“I’m sorry. I—”

Susan paused and raised a hand, gesturing a halt to Sarah’s words. “I…” She hesitated, then just shook her head. “Never mind. We’ll talk later, okay?” Without waiting for a response, she quickly walked—almost ran—out of the house. Sarah stood up and went to the front door, watching as Susan’s car pulled away.

_Carp. Why did I think talking about all that with her would be a good idea? Five minutes ago, we were laughing, and now…_

* * *

Susan sat in her car in her garage at home, forehead resting on the steering wheel. She knew she should go in and go to bed, but she was having problems working up the energy to open the car door.

 _You frakking hypocrite. Accusing Tedd of perversion, when you’re a bigger pervert than **any** of them. _ Variations on that theme had been circling in her mind for the whole drive home, and didn’t seem likely to let loose its hold on her any time soon.

Eventually she sighed, and got out of the car. She went into the house, set the house alarms, and headed up to her bedroom.

Almost as soon as she closed her bedroom door, her fairy doll Little Suze _popped_ into existence in the air in front of her. The doll’s face—Susan’s own face, writ small—was a picture of concern. Susan glared at the little winged construct, her jaw clenched so tight that some nagging corner of her mind was worried for her teeth. Little Suze lifted its hands and opened its arms, in a gesture reminiscent of Sarah offering her a hug. It flinched as Susan’s glare shifted to a silent snarl. _You little bitch. Without you, I wouldn’t **be** a pervert._

Without conscious thought, Susan’s hand flashed out and backhanded the doll across the room, where it crashed into the wall. Susan felt a wave of pain all through her body, as the mental link she shared with the doll transmitted a faint echo of that blow and crash to her. She gasped and staggered a little in response to the pain, and fell to her knees. She glowered at the doll as it too tumbled to the floor, then she gave the magical command necessary to dispel it. The last she saw of it before it disappeared with a loud _bang_ was its sad, pained face and crumpled wings.

With the disappearance of the doll, the phantom pain in her body disappeared, leaving only the real ache in her knees. She flopped over onto her side, and curled into a little ball, hugging her knees. She shut her eyes and tried to get her ragged breathing under control. A few moments later, she heard footsteps in the hall.

“Susan?” Her mother rapped on her door. “Is everything all right?”

 _Frak. Why couldn’t she be passed out too drunk to hear that unsummoning?_ It was the first time in her life Susan had ever wished her mother was _more_ drunk.

Sighing, she rolled into a sitting position, then pushed herself up and limped to the door. She opened it and said, “I’m fine, mother.” Her mother lifted her gaze to Susan’s face, and frowned.

“What were those noises? I heard a loud thump, and a bang.”

Susan looked at her mother, and realized that she wasn’t drunk. Her mother was a high-functioning alcoholic, who periodically, just to prove to herself that she could, went for a few days without drinking at all. _Why did tonight have to be a sober night?_ Susan wondered in annoyance. Then she mentally shook her head in disgust. _God, I’m such a shitty daughter. Wishing she was drunk._

Aloud, she said, “Sorry, I just… ah…” She floundered, turned to gesture vaguely at her room, unable to come up with an excuse fast enough. _Should have pretended the noises came from outside or something,_ she thought.

As Susan’s face turned towards her room, and the light, her mother’s frown changed to a look of concern. “Susan? Are you… crying?”

“What? No!” Susan denied angrily, reaching up to touch her cheek. She was shocked when her hand came away damp with tears. Tears she hadn’t even realized were there. _Shit. I am really, really losing it._ She squeezed her eyes shut, and wiped off her other cheek.

“What’s wrong, baby?” her mother asked gently.

The concern in her voice almost cracked Susan’s mask of calm, and she took a shuddering breath. “I’m… fine… I…” She opened her eyes, and looked down at her mother. She was still getting used to being taller than her mother. The perspective seemed unnatural.

 _Unnatural. Like me._ She turned away from her mother and stumbled to her bed, where she sat down with a thump. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, and buried her face in her hands.

She felt her mother sit down on the bed next to her, and place a hesitant hand on her shoulder. “Susie? What’s wrong, baby?” her mother repeated. “Can I help?”

The use of her childhood nickname, and her mother’s obvious love and concern, finally cracked through Susan’s armor, and she began to silently weep. Her mother made a pained sound, and stroked her back, comforting her. She murmured quietly, “Oh, my poor baby. Sweet Susie. Oh, my girl, it’ll be all right. It’s all right. Let it out. I love you so much…”

Several minutes later, the storm of emotion past, Susan opened her eyes and realized she was laying with her head in her mother’s lap, as her mother gently stroked her hair and hummed a wordless lullaby.

“Sor—” The word got stuck on the lump in her throat. She cleared her throat, and tried again. “Sorry.”

There was a pause, before her mother said, “Nothing you need say sorry for, sweet girl.” Susan lay there for a few more silent moments, enjoying the feeling of her mother stroking her hair. “Do you want to tell me what that was about?”

Susan closed her eyes and shook her head. “Sorry. I… don’t think I… _can_.”

“Ah.” She continued stroking Susan’s hair, and Susan felt like her body was melting, the exhaustion of her tears combined with the late hour taking over her body.

“Is it… boy troubles?” her mother asked hesitantly.

Susan actually managed a sour chuckle at that. “No. I wish.”

He mother’s hand paused for a moment at that, then continued. “All right.”

Susan sighed, then sat up, brushing her long hair back out of her face. She turned to her mother, and smiled sadly at her. “Thank you, Mom. I… it’s something I think I need to handle on my own.”

Her mother stared intently into her face, looking worried. “Susan… I know you’re a strong young woman. And you’ve always been headstrong and independent. But… you don’t need to do _everything_ alone. All on your own. Even if I can’t help, maybe others can. Maybe Sarah—” Susan flinched and looked away.

“Oh. Like that.” Her mother looked sad. “I’m sorry, baby. I know she’s like the sister I never gave you.” She sighed. “Would you like… you could start to see Dr. Tannen again.”

Susan thought about that for a moment. She hadn’t seen her old therapist for years, but she still had fond memories of him.

_Yeah, and if I tell him I’m having troubles with my fairy doll, it’ll be straight to the hospital locked wing for me._

“Thanks, Mom. Maybe not just yet, but… that’s a good idea.” She leaned forward and kissed her mother on the forehead, prompting a startled laugh from her mother.

“My beautiful giantess. Come down here and give me a proper kiss on the cheek.” Susan smiled slightly, and complied.


	2. The Morning Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Initially, [_The Last Dance_]() had three interwoven story-lines, describing events at Sarah & Tedd & Grace's wedding reception. The three story lines were told from the viewpoints of Sarah, Ruthie, and Ellen. Perhaps obviously, Ellen and Nanase's story kinda took over, and I dropped the other two. Sarah's thread was _meh_ , mostly just "Golly wow, holy shit, I'm married!" or variations thereof.
> 
> But Ruthie's story flashed back to earlier that morning, and I kinda like that section. It's not enough for a stand-alone story, but it had some fun bits.

Ruthie snuggled in against Brandon and sighed happily, watching the triad take their first dance across the dance floor. “We’ll be doing that soon,” she said to him quietly.

Brandon smiled, and bent to kiss her on the forehead. “Not soon enough, in my book.”

Ruthie snorted. “Are you kidding? We’ve only got five weeks to get all the final arrangements into place. I’ve watched Sarah this week in the home stretch leading up to _this_ wedding—I don’t anticipate getting much sleep the last few days.”

“As long as you don’t sleep through your vows.”

Ruthie grinned up at Brandon. “Or our honeymoon.”

Brandon’s answering grin was a little more heated. “Oh, I plan on making you lose a _lot_ of sleep during our honeymoon.”

Ruthie giggled. “Good.” The song changed, and others began to join the newlyweds on the dance floor. She grabbed his hand. “Come on, let’s dance.”

 

* * *

 

Ruthie had awakened that morning and shuffled out into the common room of the hotel suite, drawn by the smell of coffee. The first thing she saw as she came out of her room was Grace. She was furry, dressed in a long t-shirt, with her large tail poking up behind her. She was yawning as she stared blankly at a mug, absently dipping a tea bag up and down in steaming water.

She supposed she must have made some sort of sound of surprise, because Grace looked up, swallowed her yawn, and smiled. “G’morning, Ruthie,” she said cheerfully.

“Ah… Good morning to you too,” said Ruthie, then she shook her head. “I guess last night wasn’t a drunken dream after all.”

Grace blinked, then looked down at her fur-covered body. “Um, no. Afraid not. I’m still not a hologram.”

Ruthie snorted, then took her courage in hand and approached the room-service cart next to Grace, where a trio of promising-looking carafes sat.

“The left one is coffee, the middle is decaf, and the right one is hot water,” said Grace.

Ruthie shook her head. “Decaf? At this hour?” She reached for a cup, and poured her first cup of the day. She felt her shoulders relax a little as she took the first sip. “God, that’s good.” She tried to keep her attention on her coffee cup, fighting the urge to stare at Grace. But she couldn’t help glancing side-long at the bushy-tailed woman. “You didn’t answer the door to room service like that, did you?”

Grace chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure if I had, they’d just write me off as another furry, but, no, I didn’t. Susan answered the door.”

“Oh. Where is she?” Ruthie glanced around the room, but they were the only ones present.

“She went to get her meds, she said.”

“Yah,” said Susan’s voice behind them. “Good morning.” She joined them, poured a cup of decaf for herself with a liberal dose of milk, and tossed back a couple of pills before taking a generous sip.

Ruthie looked at her curiously, but politely didn’t ask what they were. Susan caught her glance, swallowed and shrugged. “Just my hypertension pills.”

“Ah.” Ruthie began to lift covers off of the plates on the room service cart, revealing a large assortment of breakfast food: lox and bagels and cream cheese; various pastries;multiple flavors of yoghurt; and sliced fruits. “Oooh, yum, croissants,” she said happily, and grabbed a couple. Then she noticed that the lower level of the serving cart was also loaded with plates, which further exploration revealed were full of more of the same. She cast a curious glance at Grace. “Y’think you ordered enough?”

Grace laughed. “Indrani eats enough for two or three, my metabolism is higher than human normal, and Vladia’s sweet tooth frequently gets the better of her during her period.”

“I resemble that remark,” came a grumbling voice behind her, and Ruthie turned to see a sleep-rumpled Vladia, wrapped in the white hotel robe, emerging from her room.

“Good morning.” Ruthie hesitated a moment, but curiosity got the better of her, and besides which, they seemed to be quite open discussing their… differences. “So, uh, Uryuoms menstruate too?”

Vladia snorted, while piling a plate full of fruit and pastries. “No. But I’m basically human at this point, and likely to remain so.”

“Oh?”

Vladia sat down on one of the couches, and the others followed suit. She gestured to her sister, and, around a mouth full of pastry, said, “Grace is a virtuoso shape-shifter; she can take almost any form you can think of. Me, I’ve shifted forms twice in my life, and both times the pain of the transformation almost killed me.” Ruthie’s eyes went wide. “When my second shift left me human, and female, I decided to leave well enough alone. At least I can go out in public in this form without causing too much comment.”

 _Well, as little comment as a six-foot-two woman ever causes_ , Ruthie thought. Then she blinked. “Wait, ‘and female’? Were you…male before?”

Grace answered for Vladia, who was taking a large sip of coffee. “Vladia was originally Vlad, for the first—half? Two thirds?—or so of his life.”

Vladia swallowed, and said, somewhat dryly, “Believe me, it was an education, becoming female.” She sighed, and rubbed her lower abdomen. “But, the occasional cramps aside, it’s nice enough.” She shrugged. “Beats looking like a man-bat, and being unable to go out in public, except at Hallowe’en and Comic-Con.”

Ruthie paused with a croissant halfway to her mouth. “Man-bat?” she asked, struggling to sound matter-of-fact.

Grace again picked up the conversational ball. “Uryuoms are able to cross-breed with multiple species. Which is why we’re both partly human. And Vladia is also part bat.”

Ruthie glanced at Grace. “And I take it you have some squirrels in your family tree?” she asked drily.

Grace laughed and Susan snorted at that. Vladia just continued munching on pastries, apparently content to let Grace speak for her. “Oh, yes,” said Grace. She twitched the tip of her tail energetically for a moment. Ruthie giggled at the sight, then pressed her hand to her mouth, shaking her head. The whole situation still felt a little surreal, although she wasn’t tipsy any more, and the coffee was working its usual magic on her sleep-fogged brain.

“Hey, sexy squirrel,” came a sleepy sounding voice behind them. Ruthie turned to see Sarah shambling out of the room she shared with Grace, wrapped in a white robe. She came up behind Grace and kissed her on the top of her head. Grace smiled, and turned her face up to return the kiss.

“Hey, sleepy-head. You hung-over?” asked Grace.

Ruthie watched them exchange a brief kiss, and had a momentary flash of curiosity about another aspect of their sex life, which she promptly quashed. _None of my business_ , she told herself. Though she had a momentary shiver of sensual fantasy, imagining holding a furry lover to her naked body.

Sarah shook her head. “No hangover. Just…need coffee. And calories.”

Grace stood up and patted the couch where she’d been sitting. “You sit. I’ll bring you some coffee and pastries.”

Sarah smiled blearily and plopped down on the couch. “I love you. Will you marry me?”

Grace smiled as she headed to the room-service cart and the coffee. “Only if you’ll marry me too.”

“Deal.”

“Oy,” said Ellen, and Ruthie turned to see Ellen, hair damp, already in jeans and a tank-top, entering the common room. “Do you two think you could _get_ any more lovey-dovey?”

“Is that a challenge?” asked Sarah with a grin.

“No! No, thank you, I’ll take my sugar in the form of…” she peered at the pastries on the cart. “…blueberry danishes, thank you.”

“Come on, if they can’t be lovey-dovey on their wedding day, when can they?” asked Ruthie indignantly.

“Eh…all right.” Ellen waited for Grace to finish pouring milk into Sarah’s cup of coffee, then lightened her own coffee. Ruthie watched Grace juggle a plate of pastries and fruit with the cup of coffee, as she brought them back to sit by her fiancée. Watching everyone else treat furry Grace no differently than they did when she looked human helped her to further accept the reality of the bizarre situation.

 


	3. Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the first draft of [_Susan_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8941753/chapters/23038320), Susan's initial confessions about her increased libido when in Fairy Doll form involved alcohol as a social lubricant. Eventually I decided that, no matter what, Susan wouldn't drink (at this point in her life), so I dropped this scene.

Sarah followed Susan into her house. As they slipped off their coats and shoes, Susan asked, “Do you want a glass of wine?”

Sarah was startled; that was not an offer she’d ever had from Susan before. In fact, she would have bet good money she would _never_ get an offer like that from Susan. Susan’s mother was a high-functioning alcoholic, and Susan had sworn, many times, to never touch the stuff.

“Ah…” Sarah wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“I think I need a drink for the conversation to come,” Susan said. “It just seems polite to offer you some, too.”

Sarah noticed that Susan wasn’t making any eye contact with her as they talked. Sarah was rattled, and worried. She hadn’t known Susan had any experience with drinking at all. “Sure…” she said hesitantly, though she wasn’t sure she’d actually _drink_ any of what she took.

“What kind?” asked Susan, as she headed to the wine rack in the formal dining room.

“Red?”

“Any particular kind of red? My mother has it all, pretty much.”

“Cabernet?”

“All right.” Susan examined several bottles in the wine rack, and pulled out a cabernet. She took it into the kitchen, where she got a corkscrew out of a drawer. She deftly opened it, in a manner free of fumbling that suggested that this wasn’t the first time she’d dealt with the foil-and-cork seal on a wine bottle. Sarah was getting more and more concerned as she watched.

Then she got more confused, as Susan pulled out just a single wine glass, poured, and handed it to Sarah. “Let it breathe a minute for the best flavor,” she instructed.

“Ah… I thought _you_ … needed a drink, too?” Sarah asked. She winced at her own phrasing. Using the word ‘need’ in the context of drinking with Susan just seemed so wrong.

For the first time, Susan looked up and made brief eye contact. She flashed a sour grin. “Yeah, but not like that. Back in a second.”

Sarah stood in the kitchen, wine glass in hand, wondering what on Earth was going on. She knew Susan feared falling prey to alcoholism, worried that she might have inherited her mother’s propensity for it. So why was she offering Sarah wine, and talking about _needing_ a drink herself? Sarah lifted the glass to her nose, and sniffed. It smelled lovely. She picked up the wine bottle curiously, to look at the label, and saw a price sticker on the side. _Good lord!_ She gulped, and set the bottle back down. Apparently Susan’s mother had refined tastes.

Sarah’s parents drank wine with dinner once a week or so, usually on the weekends, and Sarah had been joining them since she was sixteen. Her parents’ rationale was that most drunken teenagers drank to excess because of the ‘forbidden fruit’ aspect of it. They hoped that by making it a normal part of life, their daughters wouldn’t feel the need to binge drink like so many college students did when they moved out of their parents’ houses. It certainly seemed to have worked for Carol, who, to the best of Sarah’s knowledge, had only gotten rip-roaring drunk once in college, at the conclusion of a particularly tough finals week. “And never again,” Carol had sworn, when relating the tale over dinner a few weeks later. “Hangovers are _not_ fun.” She’d shuddered. “And I don’t like being that… _stupid_.” She’d refused to elaborate on that comment, but it had stuck in Sarah’s memory.

Susan returned with something small cupped in her hand. Sarah was startled when she set it down on the counter. She recognized the object from their childhood: it was a doll-size tea cup and saucer, that they’d played with years ago. She watched, growing even more perplexed, as Susan picked up the wine bottle and very carefully poured what couldn’t have been more than a tablespoon of wine into the cup. She then pulled open a drawer and took out a wine stopper, sealed the bottle, and left it on the counter by the refrigerator.

“Shall we?” asked Susan, as she picked up the tiny cup and saucer and headed towards the stairs leading to her room.

“ _Susan_ …”

“I know, I know. Let’s get to my room, first.”

By the time they got to Susan’s room, Sarah had figured out what the doll cup was for. So she wasn’t at all surprised when Little Suze popped into existence as soon as the bedroom door was shut. Susan handed the cup and saucer to the fairy doll, who flashed a smile and flew over to set it down on the desk. Suze sat down on the edge of the desk, legs hanging down and swinging back and forth a little, and watched Susan.

“So. You get tipsy through your fairy doll?” Sarah asked Susan, as she sat down in the rocking chair next to the desk. Susan sat on her bed and leaned back against the headboard, long legs stretched out in front of her.

Susan looked embarrassed. “Yeah.”

“How does that even work?”

Susan shrugged. “Even now, I can feel what the doll feels, more or less, as I wish. When I inhabit its body, I feel _everything_ the doll feels. It basically becomes _my_ body.”

“But… how does a fairy doll even drink? It’s a _doll_.”

“When I’m not inhabiting it, it’s a doll. When I’m _inhabiting_ it… as far as I can tell, it becomes a fully functioning biological organism.”

“How does that even—” Sarah stopped, and shook her head. “Magic.”

“I guess. Tedd might have a better answer, but ‘magic’ pretty much sums it up.”

“So… how did you discover you could drink, while in the fairy doll?”

“Uh. I think I need a drink, for this part.”

Sarah’s eyebrows shot up, but she didn’t say anything. Susan gave her a slightly embarrassed smile, then settled back and closed her eyes, hands folded on her lap. Little Suze shuddered, shut its eyes for a moment, and when its eyes opened again, Susan was looking out of the doll’s eyes at Sarah.

“That is so cool,” Sarah said, as she dragged her chair around to face the desk a little better. “Kinda freaky, but cool. It’s amazing how the doll changes when you inhabit it.”

Susan, in the fairy doll body, looked up at Sarah. “You look huge.”

“That better not be a crack about my weight,” Sarah joked.

“Hah. You should try this point of view, sometime.”

“I wish. I’d love to have a fairy doll spell.”

“Hmm. I was able to share the hammer spell with you. I wonder if there’s a way to share this one?”

Sarah felt a moment of hope, then she pushed it aside. Now was not the time to deal with her desire for more magic. Even as she thought that, Susan picked up the tea cup in both hands, and took a sip.

“Hmm. Not bad,” Susan said.

Sarah lifted her glass and sniffed, then took a little sip herself. Susan was right; it was very smooth, fruity with a hint of vanilla, not as tannic as she was used to. “Nice,” she agreed. _For that price, it ought to be_ , she thought. She stared into the wine glass’s depths for a moment, admiring the liquid red, then she sighed and looked at Susan.

“I really don’t know how to say this without being blunt,” she began.

“Yes?”

“And I hope you know it comes from a place of love for you.”

“All right…”

“But… why on _Earth_ are you drinking? I thought you were terrified of alcohol, of becoming, uh, an alcoholic, like your mother.”

Susan nodded. “I would have been shocked if you _didn’t_ ask me that,” she said.

“Okay. And?”

“I’m not drinking. The fairy doll is.”

Sarah waited a moment to see if there was more explanation forthcoming, then said, “Really? That’s your rationale? It’s not you, it’s the fairy doll? You just told me that you feel everything it feels when you inhabit it. It’s _you_ that gets tipsy, or drunk, when Little Suze drinks.”

“Yeah, but I can sober up instantly. By breaking the link. And if I go back to inhabiting the doll, even right away, the previous ‘buzz’ is gone.” The little face smiled. “It’s like my own real-life synthehol.”

Sarah had watched enough Star Trek with Susan to catch that reference. “And you’re not worried that it might still be addicting, even at once removed?”

Susan shook her head, and took another sip of wine. “I tried this out very gradually. I’ve had multiple drinks, then gone for weeks afterwards without any craving or desire to drink again. It may just be I don’t have addictive tendencies, or maybe it’s the insulating factor of the fairy doll that’s keeping it from being addicting, but, either way, it seems to be safe for me.”

Sarah sighed. “I hope you’re right.”

“If it turns out I’m not, I trust you’ll point it out to me.”

“Oh, yeah. So, how long have you been experimenting with this? For that matter, why did you start?”

“About three months. As I said, it started slowly. I don’t drink often. Maybe once every couple of weeks. But…” Susan shrugged. “I’m an up-tight anal retentive borderline-OCD stick-in-the-mud, Sarah. Relaxing a little, even if it’s just all by myself, feels good.”

 

 


	4. Unrequited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This started out mostly free-associating, discovery writing, and quickly dove down a rabbit hole. A rabbit hole I really have no interest in adding to my personal canon, so into the trash bin it went. Still, it's fun to write scenes with Dr. Tannen.
> 
> Follows up on the chapter [_Susan_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8941753/chapters/23038320) and the "sequel" story [_Suze & Susan_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10525320).

All things considered, Susan wasn’t surprised it took two sessions to just relate the basics of what happened between herself and Sarah, Grace, and Tedd. The whole situation was a little unprecedented, even for the Uryuom therapist. It wasn’t until the start of the session after that, their fourth together, that Susan finally got around to addressing the heart of what was troubling her the most about the whole event.

Susan pulled one knee up to her chest and wrapped her arms around it, sighing. She very deliberately did not look back over her shoulder; she didn’t really want to know what Little Suze might be revealing about her current mental state. Not that it was all that hidden at the moment.

“I knew going into that evening that it’s not uncommon for sex to be strongly conflated with love. That women especially are prone to feel like they’re falling in love with their partners, because of, you know, oxytocin and all that. But I figured, since I was only _watching_ , not physically involved, I was at enough of a remove for it to not be an issue. And also, I was on guard against it.”

Dr. Tannen made a choked little throat-clearing noise, and Susan glanced up at him. She smiled sourly. “Yeah, yeah, I know how arrogant and stupid that sounds.”

“That’s not how I would have phrased it. It sounds very… Susan, to me. Very human.”

Susan sighed again. “Human. Yeah. I guess I’m not Vulcan enough to control my emotions that well.”

“If you were a Vulcan, none of this would be an issue.” He smiled a little. “Or at least, it would only be an issue once every seven years.”

Susan snorted.

“So, regardless of what species you are, you have these emotional responses. Even if they’re not totally rational, they’re here, and they’re real. What do you want to do with them?”

Susan buried her face on her knee, letting her hair fall forward to shield her. “I don’t know,” she muttered.

“Really?”

Susan lifted her head and glowered a little at Dr. Tannen. “All right, I know what I _want_ to do with them. But I also know what I very emphatically _don’t_ want to do with them, and those are two diametrically opposed things. ‘Don’t’ wins out, in this case. By a large margin. I won’t do anything to harm our friendship.”

“Very well. ‘Don’t’ wins out. But what _are_ those desires that don’t win? Just for curiosity’s sake.”

“Curiosity’s sake. Right.”

“All right, for therapy’s sake.”

Susan actually smiled a little at that.

“What would you say, if you felt free to say anything you wanted to? What would you do?”

Susan stared into the distance over Dr. Tannen’s shoulder, staring unseeing at the watercolor seascape hanging on the wall behind him. “That's… just too hard to imagine.” She lowered her voice. “Too _scary_ to imagine.”

“Okay, let’s take a step back. Why is it so scary to imagine?”

Susan’s brow furrowed as she thought for a few moments. “Because… it makes no sense.” She shot him a quick glance. “And, _yes_ , I know, feelings often don't. But in addition… I’m afraid of what would happen if I _did_ say anything. I have no desire to damage the friendship we have now.”

“Even though what you’re feeling is stronger than mere friendship?”

Susan waved a hand, as if batting aside the thought. “It’s an irrational feeling. An _infatuation_. I’ve dealt with the like before. It’ll pass.” She stared at the floor, frowning. “I don’t even _like_ women that way; I mean, I’m not sexually attracted to them.” She sighed, and bit her lip, her face crumpling. “So why in the hells have I fallen in love with my best friend?” she asked plaintively.

“Well, she _is_ your best friend. In an ideal world, the person we fall in love with is our best friend.”

“Yeah, but—falling in love should be with someone I’m _attracted_ to. Physically, as well as emotionally.”

“Perhaps.”

Susan shot him a puzzled look. “What does _that_ mean?”

Dr. Tannen was silent for a few moments, fidgeting with his pen. “In our first session, you said something about valuing an outsider’s point of view. That you thought having a non-human view point could be useful.”

“Yes?”

“Do you mind if I float some ideas that are… non-traditional, in human terms?”

Susan stared at him for a moment, wondering if she dared say yes. But why else was she there in the first place? “All right…” she said slowly.

“You know Uryuom families can be complicated. Parentage involving more than two people, of multiple races.”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever wondered about what those larger families must be like internally, emotionally?”

Susan shrugged. “No. I haven’t really thought about it. The only grouping of more than two people I know is Sarah, Tedd and Grace. And they all seem to be pretty much in love with each other.”

“True, we don’t even need to consider non-human groupings. Even in human polyamorous groupings, ‘equal’ love between all partners isn’t always a given. A group of three might have one person who’s in love with two others, who aren’t necessarily in love with each other. If the people involved are all heterosexual, the two same-sex partners might care for, and maybe even love, one another, but they aren’t physically attracted to or involved with each other.”

“All right. So?”

“So. What if you confessed your love for Sarah to her? What if she loves you back, without expectation of a physical relationship? Her physical needs are being met by Tedd and Grace. You don’t necessarily need to be in the role of a _physical_ lover in order to be her lover.”

Susan’s face flushed, not just with embarrassment, but also from anxiety at the thought.

“What if you could join the three of them? Become an additional partner in their emotionally bonded group. Would you want to?”

Susan realized her breathing was getting a little shaky at the thought. She shut her eyes and struggled to regulate her emotions, and breath. Dr. Tannen gave her the time to do so. After a minute, she looked back at him, and said, sadly, “No.”

“No?”

“No, I wouldn’t want to join their triad. I like Tedd and Grace well enough, but not enough to attach myself to them in that way.” She sighed. “And they’re a part of Sarah. If I can’t accept them that way, I can’t imagine she would want _me_ in that way.” She gave a bitter laugh. “And besides, what about _my_ physical needs? I may not want to make love with Sarah, but I _do_ want a lover. I have no interest in remaining celibate.”

“What if Sarah were to assume a male form?”

Susan closed her eyes and grimaced. “Is my hour up yet?” she asked.

“I’m afraid not. But we can stop, if you wish. Or stop this line of conversation, if it’s getting too uncomfortable for you. Though you might want to ask yourself _why_ it’s getting so uncomfortable.”

Susan rubbed her temples for a few moments, then looked back up at Dr. Tannen. “Do I even _want_ to know what Little Suze has been up to the past few minutes?”

“I don’t know. Do you?” he asked with a smile.

Susan considered the notion for a moment, then nodded.

“Little Suze… seemed very positively inclined towards the thought of Sarah in male form.”

Susan flopped her head backwards against her chair, staring up at the ceiling. “Stupid little brat,” she muttered, but her heart wasn’t in the complaint. She brought Little Suze to therapy sessions for exactly that purpose, to bring out in the open things which she had difficulty addressing out loud. She looked back at Dr. Tannen.

“ _Yes_ , I like the idea of making love with Sarah in male form. It would solve… several of my problems. The only thing is, she _isn’t_ male. She’s told me she’s only shifted to a male form a couple of times, mostly for curiosity’s sake. It’s not her preferred sex. She has fun with it when she does it, but it… it isn’t _her_. Her core self.”

“How so?”

Susan ran a hand through her hair, frowning. “I mean… Tedd is gender fluid. He switches back and forth easily, and often. Male or female, they’re both him. Her. Whatever.”

“Grace is… flexible. Adaptable. She’s comfortable being whatever sex her body happens to be at the moment, even though she defaults to female.”

“Sarah… Sarah is female. She can put on a male form like a mask, but it’s not her. She says it frequently feels a little surreal, disassociated, when she’s male.”

Susan looked away from Dr. Tannen, blushing a little. “Male Sarah may be good fodder for my masturbatory fantasies, but the reality of it is, she’d only be doing it for me, not her. It wouldn’t really be her pleasure, her desire. And that’s… that’s not something I want.”

“You want someone who desires you for you, and who you can likewise desire in return.”

“Well, yeah.”

“I would even go so far as to say you deserve that.”

Susan grimaced. “Feh. Maybe.”

“Hmm. I’m going to get a little new-agey on you and say, _yes_ , you deserve love, and to be loved, and to be desired. Everyone does.”

Susan sighed. “What’s Suze doing now?”

“Nodding.”

“Right.”

“So… it sounds like getting involved in a non-traditional relationship with Sarah isn’t going to be a solution to this issue.”

“I don’t think so, no.”

“So, I’ll ask again: what do you want to do about these emotions?”

Susan stared broodingly at the watercolor behind Dr. Tannen. “Do? Nothing. Wait them out. I had a crush on Elliot at one point. I didn’t act on it. It passed.” She shrugged. “The simple fact of the matter is, I don’t see any way to requite this unrequited crush. So there are no actions _to_ take. Just… endure. When I come out the other side, our friendship will still be there. And that’s the important part.”

“True.”

“She loves me. She’s said as much. Even if it is just a sisterly love. But the way I felt when I woke up in her hands…” Susan shook her head. “I can’t describe it. I’ve never felt so warm, and safe, and cherished.” She gave a wry smile. “I guess I _did_ get involved in the physical act of making love, just not in the traditional penetrative sex kind of way. That cut through my barriers in ways I couldn’t have anticipated. Or guard against.” She stared at the floor, looking a little sad. She said, quietly, “I’ve never been held like that, not since I was a child, a baby. Whole body. Enveloped. Skin-to-skin. Safe, trusting. Warm.” Susan sighed. “Loved.”

Dr. Tannen let her sit in contemplative silence for a minute, then said, “Have you told her any of that? Not that you’re in love with her, but how you felt that night, what she did for you?”

“I… no. Not really. I said a little bit, at the time, and I touched on it briefly, when we all talked about things the next day. I think I said thank you for holding me. But I didn’t get quite so… poetic about it.”

“Maybe you should.”

Susan shot him an exasperated look. “Why? To what end? She’s not going to fall in love with me.”

“I’m not saying she will. But, if you weren’t wrestling with these extreme feelings, of ‘being in love’, would you have normally expressed some of what you just said to her? As a friend?”

“You think I’m holding back, because of how I feel? Over-compensating?”

“Are you?”

Susan frowned in thought for a few moments, then sighed. “You’re probably right. I don’t discuss my feelings a lot, but something that major… I probably would have said _something_.”

“Do you think you could bring it up with her now?”

“Now? Almost a month later? That just seems… awkward. Why would I bring something like that up at this late date?”

“I don’t know. Why would you?”

Susan glowered at him. “Rogerian therapy fell out of fashion years ago.”

Dr. Tannen chuckled. “But the question stands.”

Susan shook her head. “I’m not even sure I _want_ to share it with her,” she said quietly. “Sharing it with you was hard enough. That memory, it’s precious. My… treasure.” She flushed. “It gives me… hope. For myself.”

“Would your treasure be diminished by the sharing of it? Especially with the one who gave it to you?”

“…It might? If she… laughed at me. Or if it… disturbs her. To know how deeply that affected me.”

“Do you honestly think she would laugh at you?” asked Dr. Tannen gently.

Susan looked down, and shook her head. “No. No, she wouldn’t.”

“Well, then.”

Susan sat thinking about it for a minute, then shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m going to have to think about that. Maybe sharing my feelings with her is the right thing to do, but it feels… fraught.” She looked back up at Dr. Tannen. “Let me think about that one for a while. Can we come back to that next session?”


End file.
